


For Every Year I’ve Missed You

by Mechanical Emotion (MechanicalEmotion)



Series: With Our Hands Entwined [1]
Category: Senki Zesshou Symphogear
Genre: AU setting (see notes), F/F, Implied Tsubasa/Maria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:55:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechanicalEmotion/pseuds/Mechanical%20Emotion
Summary: Prequel to “With Our Hands Entwined, Anything is Possible.”Tsubasa makes an observation regarding Kanade’s health.
Relationships: Amou Kanade/Kazanari Tsubasa
Series: With Our Hands Entwined [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2201286
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	For Every Year I’ve Missed You

**Author's Note:**

> The original premise of "With Our Hands Entwined..." is: 
> 
> Several years after the events of XV, S.O.N.G. continues to fight supernatural threats.
> 
> It is discovered that since her death, Kanade Amou has been fighting in another dimension under the control of a horrific creature. During a conflict, Kanade is freed from its grasp and re-tethered to this world.

“Man, I’m never going to get used to this. Beds are so nice...”

Kanade lay back into her bed, her face at ease.

Though it was difficult to pull her eyes away from the woman, Tsubasa took another opportunity to glance around the room. On such short notice, S.O.N.G. had only been able to supply Kanade a very small location with a twinsized bed. The walls were bare. The room was sparsely furnished, but one of the first things Kanade had done on arrival was stock the fridge.

The second thing Kanade had done was ask Tsubasa if she had any old photos of them.

This was a silly question - there were plenty of photos of the two of them as performers. But as Kanade flipped through Tsubasa’s carefully cradled photo albums, she picked out an unprofessional, candid photo of the two.

Back then, they had to be careful about dating in public. The café they had visited in the photo was long closed, but Tsubasa could still remember the coffee warming her hands during that cold winter.

In this photo Kanade had, as usual, pushed further than Tsubasa thought acceptable. A long arm was slung over Tsubasa’s shoulder. Kanade’s face was nestled up against her neck, while Tsubasa’s expression remained frozen in place – red cheeked and worried.

Those moments, which Tsubasa had always thought were so risky and unreasonable, were now some of her most cherished memories.

The air in Kanade’s room was heavy and warm, the noon’s remaining light reflecting off the dust in the air. Near the small, disheveled bed was a frame containing the photo that Kanade had chosen. A stray pizza box sat on the counter, and Tsubasa’s day clothing had somehow made their way onto the kitchen table during the process of switching into pajamas earlier that evening.

Kanade had only been out of the hospital for a few days. On first retrieval of her body, Tsubasa found it difficult to believe that it was her. But as tests were run while they tried to wake her, the evidence was obvious. At this conclusion, the walls that Tsubasa had unknowingly held up for so long crashed around her, as if she had been clenching her jaw tight her whole life and only just realized.

Though it had been ages since she had seen her, the initial emotions she felt – the relief, the disbelief, and the sobbing brought on by both - were pushed aside and replaced by a new observation as the days advanced.

Kanade looked tired.

It’s not that Kanade never became fatigued. Anyone involved with Section 2 would become worn out, and she was no exception. Or, after a concert, when she’d sneak into Tsubasa’s hotel bed and crawl under her covers, mumbling half-coherent words while stroking her hair – she was tired then, too.

But always, always – under the surface, Kanade had a fire smoldering in her body, waiting to ignite. The first sign of excitement or anger would set her off in ways that Tsubasa had always marveled and feared.

That was gone. Whatever happened to Kanade for the last seven years – the details of which she couldn’t fully remember herself – had ground those embers beneath its heel.

And physically, Kanade was different too. At first, Tsubasa believed this was simply due to time - they were both older. But further observation showed that there was more to it. The entity that had used Kanade had her fighting constantly, and she looked stronger. She was also leaner, however, and it gave her a sullen, twisted appearance that concerned Tsubasa. Kanade also held herself a little more tensely – her gaze brushing the ground instead of challenging the eyes of the people around her.

The relief that had returned to Tsubasa was slowly transforming into a new form of dread.

“Hey Tsubasa, what are you just staring for? Get over here.” Kanade interrupted, opening her arms from her spot on the bed. Her frame was loose and inviting, her smile infectious.

Tsubasa shook her head and weakly returned this smile before walking over and easing into her embrace.

This was the same, at least. It was just as familiar as ever.

They remained like this for a while. Kanade went on, talking about Tsubasa’s teammates. “I can’t believe how much help you have now. Or how strong everyone is. You’re lucky you’ve got so much backup,” she mused.

There was a hint of pain in Kanade’s voice. Since waking up, she hadn’t spoken about her ability to continue using Gungnir. They were performing daily tests on her, but the current assumption was that when the strain tore her body apart, the relic itself had become integrated into her system. There was no evidence suggesting that it would harm her in the same manner that it harmed Hibiki, but Kanade hadn’t once suggested helping during any mission.

For Kanade to sit idly as alerts blared throughout the base was unlike her. In the hospital, she was also docile – only perking up when Tsubasa would enter. If Tsubasa didn't know better, she’d say this wasn’t Kanade – and yet the childhood memories they shared, the way she spoke – these unique traits couldn’t be falsified.

Tsubasa didn’t want to bring it up. She didn’t know if she could handle seeing her fight again.

Instead, Tsubasa gripped Kanade’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I’ve missed you.”

Kanade shifted behind her, wrapping her arms around Tsubasa’s waist and pressing against her back. Tsubasa felt her heart leap in her chest. The motion was familiar, and she knew what the unspoken intention was from experience. But still – Kanade’s eyes, even now -

“Wait. Stay there.”

“Hm?” Kanade responded, a low voice near Tsubasa’s ear. “But I want t-”

“I know.”

Leaning forward and guiding Kanade back down to the pillow, Tsubasa held herself above Kanade, arms supporting her on both sides. Kanade raised an entertained eyebrow up at her. “This is a new view.”

“Mh,” Tsubasa frowned down at her. “You’re still injured. This is my responsibility.”

“They cleared me, you goof. I’m fine.”

Tsubasa shook her head. “You’re not.” Lowering herself, she placed a brief kiss on Kanade’s lips. “Let me do this.”

Kanade smiled up at her incredulously, crossing her arms behind her head. “Whatever.” As Tsubasa went for another kiss, Kanade smirked at her. “You know, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“We do.”

Tsubasa navigated to Kanade’s shoulder and moved the shirt fabric aside, gently biting down. The sensation of being so close to her skin after years brought on a wave of emotion so intense that she almost felt sick.

  
“When you first left,” Tsubasa said softly, unable to stop herself. “I thought you were gone forever. I couldn’t breathe – it was as if my lungs had given out.”

“‘Tsubasa’ was gone. There was no point in remaining here. But I knew you wouldn’t have left those that needed help to fend for themselves.” Tsubasa moved towards Kanade’s collarbone, gripping at Kanade’s side as she planted light kisses across it. “This body, this weapon, still needed to uphold your will.”

“This went on for a few years,” Tsubasa continued, her voice quiet and trapped in her throat, words embedded in her chest for years working their way out. “It was simple and easy, but everywhere I went was so dark.”

Tsubasa had half-expected Kanade to make a quip about her being overdramatic, but the woman lay uncharacteristically still as Tsubasa fumbled with the front buttons of Kanade’s shirt.

“After that, something happened. Your words returned to me, in a most painful way. I closed my eyes, ignoring your message. I couldn’t accept it.”

Kanade shifted as Tsubasa freed her of her shirt. As Tsubasa moved her hands towards her breasts, she leaned her knee gently between Kanade’s legs and was rewarded with a quiet hiss from the woman.

“But that message came through in the end – Tachibana is persistent. She was the spark that reminded me that I couldn’t only protect, but that I also had to live. It was hard to see at first, but every day, it became a little brighter. Even when the roads lead back to despair, her torch – the one you gave her – lit the way home.”

“And for all those years,” Tsubasa whispered, traveling her hand towards the waistband of Kanade’s shorts. “For every year I’ve missed you, I owe you in turn, twice over. Because even in death, Kanade, you guided me and kept me alive.”

Tsubasa’s thoughts – and actions – were interrupted by a prod at her forehead.

“Hey, shut it. You don’t owe me anything,” Kanade said, her face flushed but her expression stern. “Knock it off.”

“Tsubasa, I’m glad it got you through, but what you pulled off throughout those years, that was all you.”

Tsubasa sat quiet and disoriented, overwhelmed by both the external stimulation and the embarrassment of sharing too much. It was Kanade’s laughter that shattered the silence, as she ruffled Tsubasa’s hair before flopping back into the pillows. “You should see your face. Stop thinking and let’s go.”

Unsure of what to do but with a task now assigned, Tsubasa pulled her shirt up over her own head before settling between Kanade’s legs. She kissed up her thigh, ignoring a deep, unusual scar at her knee, before awkwardly tugging at the side of Kanade’s shorts.

This was familiar. The softness of Kanade’s legs, the way she smelled. But even then, the dance was unpracticed. Maria and Tsubasa moved in sync so easily now, and Tsubasa worried that Kanade would notice the way she fumbled.

If she did, she didn’t say it. Instead, she let out another laugh – obtuse, choppy, and every bit of it more beautiful than windchimes – while lifting her hips and pulling all the fabric hindering Tsubasa in one swift motion.

Feeling entirely overwhelmed, Tsubasa opted to move back up towards Kanade’s face. She pressed herself against her body as she tested a digit. Kanade exhaled in response.

“You know, if anything,” Kanade began, voice stilted at the sudden distraction of another finger being introduced. “I owe you. You’re what kept me sane through all of this, if just barely.”

Tsubasa pressed her lips against Kanade’s. It was selfish, especially after Tsubasa’s monologue, but the last thing she wanted was to reflect on the danger Kanade had found herself in.

As Kanade’s reaction increased, Tsubasa moved her hand away from its previous position. Kanade’s verbal protesting, which had started up immediately, was halted as Tsubasa pushed her own body downward again, lifting Kanade’s legs onto her shoulders. Carefully easing into her, Tsubasa began involving her mouth in the process.

For all of the experience the two had, Kanade had never been particularly loud. Tsubasa had always assumed this was her way of being respectful of her nervousness regarding being found out. But even now, in an isolated area, Kanade remained silent.   
  
Other tells were what guided Tsubasa. Her breathing, which she always tried to keep under control but unraveled as the night progressed. The way her fingers gripped at the sheets. And if she spoke, the tone of her voice - which would lose, even if just for a moment, it’s sly undercurrent, replaced with an honesty that always made Tsubasa’s chest ache.

This continued this until the soft skin of Kanade’s thighs pressed erratically against Tsubasa’s face, eventually relaxing into the mattress. She felt a hand rest on her head.

“Haa...not bad. You’ve gotten better.”

Tsubasa felt her ears grow warm, trying to figure out if she was being insulted or not. “Are you saying I wasn’t good befor-” her protest was cut short as she lifted herself up and looked at Kanade.

“...are you crying?”

“’Tch,” Kanade gave a noncommittal reply as she turned her head, her eyes shining with tears. There was a silent beat as she caught her breath. “Never cried in my life.”

Tsubasa averted her eyes with respect, humming a sound of agreement. “Of course.”

Shifting back to the top of the bed, Tsubasa snaked her way around Kanade’s body, staying close to keep from falling off. Kanade’s hair was a tangled mess, as always. The sun had all but disappeared, and the last few beams reflected off the thin layer of sweat on her shoulders. Tsubasa felt herself sink into the sheets, enjoying the comfort.

“I never thought I would be able to do this again,” Tsubasa murmured into Kanade’s hair, closing her eyes. “Things are different now. But as long as I’m breathing, I will keep you safe. We all will.”

The flame inside of her was gone, but Kanade was still here. And Tsubasa was determined to help her discover that fire again.

“Yeah yeah, enough of the sappy talk,” Kanade replied, a grin cracking through as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Practically lifting Tsubasa from the bed in one swift motion, she rolled her onto her back.

“I’ve got a much better idea.”


End file.
